by Nikki Chase
If I were a cartoon character, there would be a lightbulb turning on right above my head. Everything makes sense now.
Again, we’re stuck together in a small cabin, during a sudden snow storm. What else are we supposed to do? What else are two adults, who are clearly attracted to each other, supposed to do?
It doesn’t have to be serious. I don’t need to trust Eli to get into bed with him. We can keep this casual.
Like we both agreed earlier, we are older . . . Not everything has to be life-and-death. There’s no need to get dramatic.
Back when I was younger, there was no chance of me not taking our relationship seriously. I was eighteen, and I thought I’d found my soulmate—how ridiculous does that sound now?
But, it was probably because half the kids in school called me a slut. Every morning was a struggle to get myself out of bed and into class. School was a depressing prison I couldn’t escape.
That must’ve affected the way I felt about myself, the way I felt about everything, the way I approached my first sexual partner ever.
But, I’m older now. I can see everything through grown-up lens. I know now that the girls who spread those rumors in school were just jealous and insecure. Now, I can have sex for the fun of it.
I draw both my legs up onto the couch and sit cross-legged, facing Eli. I look into his dark eyes and give him a smile.
When he returns my smile, without thinking twice, I lean forward and reach for his hair. I’ve wanted to run my fingers through it all day—it just looks so soft and silky.
I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to tug at his hair while he’s on top of me, fucking me. I bite my lower lip as I let my imagination run wild.
Gazing at Eli from underneath my lashes, I run my hand down his head, caressing the uneven surface of his ear and the curve of his cheek.
The black scruff along his jawline feels rough under my finger pads. I wonder how it would feel grazing against my sensitive inner thighs.
“Sophia . . .” Eli says softly. His dark eyes are dilated, but there’s concern there, too. “Maybe we should go back to sleep. You’ve had too much to drink.”
“Sure,” I say as my fingers trace the hard muscles of his broad shoulder and his chest. “We can go to sleep after.”
“After what?” he asks in a gentle voice that’s nevertheless growing hoarse with desire.
“After . . .” I let my voice hang in the electric air between us. Maybe I don’t need to answer with my words.
Curling my hand around the back of his neck, I lean forward, lifting my ass off the couch. I close my eyes as I graze my lips against his.
He wants this; I know he wants this. It’s easy to see.
Still, my heart pulses rapidly, nervously.
With Eli, I want him to take control. I want him to overwhelm me with his desire. I want him to let go of his inhibitions and take me the way only he can.
I hope I haven’t messed things up so badly that he doesn’t want to do those things to me again. I’ve dreamed of him so many times, and I’ll regret it if I walk away without reliving our intimate moments together.
To my relief, Eli kisses me back—gently, at first. Tentatively.
Is he still worried about how much I’ve had to drink?
Still, it doesn’t take much coaxing until Eli moves closer, wanting more. He nibbles on my bottom lip and sighs, his breathing growing heavier. With his finger, he traces my wet lips.
“Sophia . . .” he whispers. “There’s nothing I want more than to kiss you right now. But, maybe this is not the right time . . .”
“It’s just a kiss, Eli,” I whisper back.
I want more than “just a kiss,” of course. But, there’s no need to say that out loud.
There’s a vortex of desire swirling around us, pulling us closer like a pair of magnets. It’ll take over, sooner or later. And, even without the alcohol in our systems, it’s already stronger than either one of us.
“Sophia, I . . .” Eli drags a deep breath into his lungs and lets out a big exhale, his breath falling hot on my lips, making me want him even more.
“I just want to kiss you some more, Eli,” I say softly. I bite my bottom lip and gaze at him.
Eli’s sharp gaze studies my facial expression. I can almost pinpoint the moment when he loses the battle against himself. Something dangerous glints in his dark eyes.
And then, illuminated by the flickering flame from the fireplace, a crooked smile spreads across his handsome face.
He doesn’t have to say a word. I can feel the change in the way he touches me.
Eli grabs my arm and yanks me to him. He traps my face in his hands and crushes his lips against mine.
This time, I don’t hesitate either. I kiss him back with more force than I knew I was capable of.
My head spins as Eli plunders my mouth. Something hot kindles in my center, and I know it’s not because of the wine or the fireplace.
He cups the back of my head and tangles his fist in my hair, just like he used to do before he fucked me. Is that what he’s about to do now?
We both fight for air, panting and holding on desperately to each other like we’re each other’s lifeline.
Eli’s tongue slips along mine as he thrusts his body against mine, pinning me down on the couch. I can feel his dick growing hard in response to this violently passionate kiss.
I let out a small whimper as he bites my lip. I throw my head back against the couch, pressing my heaving chest against him.
Before Eli gets any chance to remind me about how much I’ve had to drink, I grind myself against his impressive length. I run my fingers through his hair and tug him down, urging him to kiss me harder, deeper.
“Fuck, Sophia,” Eli groans into my mouth as he presses his hard shaft against me.
This reminds me of how we used to rub ourselves raw through our clothes, back when we were younger and sneaking around to make out with each other.
But, even though we’ve kissed before, more times than I can remember, this kiss feels different. Unlike any others we’ve ever shared. With just his lips, Eli takes complete ownership of me.
It’ll be disastrous when he inevitably lets me go again, a small, sensible voice in my head says.
But, I no longer have any control of my own body. This force pulling us together is more powerful and demanding than I can resist.
And, to be honest, I don’t want to resist it. I don’t want it to stop. I want to give in to this sheer madness.
Eli’s kiss makes me dizzy. He may not know it, but he’s more intoxicating than any wine or liquor. My whole body tingles with lust and anticipation. My belly is throbbing, my core clenching in need.
I pull away as we both breathe frantically. Maintaining eye contact, I pull my shirt over my head.
Eli stares at me, his dark eyes a mixture of desire and doubt. “Sophia, are you sure—“
“Shut up, Eli,” I cut him off as I unhook my bra and toss it aside on the floor.
Eli breaks eye contact, making me smile in the darkness. I can see the moment his self-control crumbles and it’s beautiful. Sexy as hell.
Eli’s gaze flicks to my tits. But, he doesn’t waste time just looking.
He doesn’t need more encouragement. A large hand cups my tits as he draws a ragged breath as if the wind has been knocked out of him. His fingers tease over my pink, sensitive, hardened nipples.
I let out a moan, knowing it’s just the thing to spur him on. It’s just the two of us in a secluded cabin in the middle of a snow storm.
I don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us. So, I let go of my self-consciousness and let Eli know just how desperate he makes me with my gasps and moans.
My body starts to shudder as Eli takes my nipple into his mouth and takes a lick. Sensations shoot straight down my spine and into my core, making me tighten with need.
He traps my nipple between his teeth and my breath catches. I thrust my pelvis forward in an attempt t
o make contact with Eli’s hot, hard body.
But, I reach nothing but air. As I mewl with disappointment, Eli lets out a low chuckle and runs his hands up my thighs.
“Patience, princess . . .” he says, caressing my skin with his warm breath.
He parts my legs as he drags his mouth down my body. He hooks his fingers in the waist of my pants and pulls them down, leaving me writhing in my panties.
Then, knowing how much I need him, he positions himself over the crotch of my panties, letting me feel his breath and the light graze of his hot lips.
“Eli, please . . .” I beg as I grab his shoulder and tug him back up. I need to feel his thick, hard cock. I need to know just how much he needs me. “Stop teasing me.”
“Okay, okay.” Eli’s smirk hovers over my face, his forearms resting on both sides of my head. “I forget what a demanding brat you can be.”
“I need you,” I plead breathlessly, grinding my pelvis against the erection tenting the front of his jeans.
“You won’t believe how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he says with sincerity in his eyes.
I don’t know how to stop myself from falling for him, from trusting him completely, when he looks at me like that. But, who cares? That sounds like a job for future, sober me to work on in the morning.
I give Eli a smile. I’ve wanted him right on top of me for a long time, too. “It’s been way too long.”
“Yeah. How did I ever survive without you?” Eli puts his hand on my cheek and strokes my skin with his thumb.
“I have no idea.” I giggle.
“You’re hot, princess.”
“Thank you,” I answer, giggling again.
“No, I mean, you’re burning up. Your skin is too hot,” he says.
“What?” I study Eli’s face and realize his eyes have lost their wildness. In its place, I see tenderness and concern—not bad things at all . . . But, under the circumstances . . . “What do you mean?”
“I mean . . .” Eli sighs and pushes himself up.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I ask, grabbing his strong biceps.
“Princess,” Eli says, looking deep into my eyes, “you’re . . . in no condition to be doing this.”
“I am.”
“You’ve drunk too much.” Eli shakes his head.
“I haven’t,” I insist.
“Yes, you have.” He gives me a wry smile. “You have no idea how much I want this, but I don’t want you to regret this in the morning and lock yourself in the bedroom again.”
“I won’t. I promise you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I’m acting like a child. I may be lying underneath him, wearing only my panties, but this is not sexy. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
Eli reaches down to grab the blanket at the foot of the couch and pulls it up over me, covering my nakedness. In a low, soothing voice, he says, “And I promise you, I’ll still be here in the morning when you wake up. If you haven’t changed your mind by then, we can do whatever you want. I promise.”
I want to answer back. I want to tell him he’s wrong.
At the same time, the blanket does feel nice and cozy. It’s lonely as soon as Eli climbs down and sits down on the floor, though. But, before I can protest, he touches my head and strokes my hair.
“Go to sleep now, princess,” he whispers softly, his hand moving slowly and gently over my head, making me yawn. “I’ll be here in the morning.”
Eli
I smile as I check the school principal’s Twitter feed on my phone. It shows students eating pizza, playing board games, and watching some silly cartoon.
It sucks that Nicole had to be stuck at school due to the snow storm, but it doesn’t look like a bad experience at all for the kids or the teachers.
If anything, the pictures show everyone having fun. I’ll bet this snow storm will end up a pleasant memory.
If Nicole had gotten the cell phone she wanted, she would’ve been texting me. Under the circumstances—I glance at the beautiful woman sleeping on the couch next to me—I’m not sure that would’ve been a good idea.
What if she had called while I was pressing my rock-hard cock against Sophia?
I wonder what I should tell Sophia about Nicole.
When I first saw Sophia naked by the fire, I didn’t think it was going to matter at all, so I hadn’t thought about it. I didn’t think I had a chance in hell with the woman of my dreams.
But now, everything has changed. To think she had crouched behind the counter at the cupcake shop just to avoid me. To think that a couple of days ago, she would’ve preferred to have cupcake icing all over her than make small talk with me.
I huff a small laugh as my fingers caress Sophia’s soft, red, icing-free hair. I didn’t think I’d ever touch these flaming strands again.
So, what should I tell her about Nicole? What should I fucking tell her about the reason I told her to leave, especially when it concerns someone who tortured her and made her life a living hell for years?
“Would you ever forgive me?” I whisper in the dark, not expecting a response.
Sophia’s breathing is slow and regular. A blanket covers her, but I can make out the shape of her tits under it. I can see her chest rising up and down with her every breath.
Despite the heavy thoughts clouding my mind, I can’t help but remember the way her tits looked and felt and tasted. Despite everything, my cock twitches in my pants.
Seriously, man? I want to ask myself.
But, Sophia has always had a certain . . . unique effect on me.
She’s singularly, overwhelmingly exquisite. She takes my breath away when I look at her gorgeous face, when I hear the witty things she says, when she seduces me with her complete submission.
“What am I going to do with you, princess?” I ask—again, not expecting an answer. “What the fuck am I supposed to do here?”
A deep pit gapes open in my stomach.
There’s another effect Sophia has on me. She terrifies me.
Yes, this petite, slender, smooth-skinned red-head scares me like nothing else can.
It may sound strange, but it makes complete sense.
In my whole life, nothing has ever hurt me as much as losing her did.
Now that I’ve let myself believe it’s possible for me to have her back in my life again, I’m petrified.
There are things about me she doesn’t know, things that can potentially change everything between the two of us.
It’s not just the past that we need to deal with. It’s also the present, and the future.
I don’t want Sophia to walk away again. But, at the same time, I can’t ask her to abandon her dreams for someone like me, someone who has lied to her and hurt her.
She tries to act like she’s unaffected, but I see glimpses of her pain when she glances away from me, when she pulls away from me. I inflicted a wound on her that hasn’t healed in the seven years we’ve been apart.
She’s back in my life, yes. But, for how long? And, can I be selfish enough to ask her to stay after the way I betrayed her the last time she trusted me?
Ring ring! Ring ring!
Jesus, I forgot how loud those old phones can be.
I wake up with a start and jump up to my feet right away.
Damn it, I was planning to let Sophia sleep in. I wanted to make her some breakfast before gently waking her up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
I squint at the blinding rays streaming in through the window, then at the clock. It’s nine a.m. Not too early for a phone call, I guess.
Whoever’s calling has no idea I stayed up until four this morning, making out with my drunk ex-girlfriend, giving myself grief for making out with my drunk ex-girlfriend, and then plotting ways for me to keep making out with my ex-girlfriend in the future—even when she’s not drunk.
I grab the phone receiver angrily even though I know it was my own fault I didn’t lower the volume before falling asleep last night.
“Hello, may I speak to Mr. Strome, please?” says a woman’s on the other end of the line.
“Speaking,” I say, keeping my volume down as I glance at Sophia, who’s wriggling awake in her blanket on the couch.
“Oh, hi, Elijah.” The voice on the phone turns saccharine sweet. No doubt this is the teacher who continues to flirt with me every time I stop by the school despite my obvious lack of interest. I blame Mom’s friend, Brenda, who insisted on setting me up on a blind date with her. “This is Nicole. Mackenzie, I mean.” She laughs. “Obviously.”
“Hi, Miss Mackenzie.”
“You can drop the formalities,” she says. “But, I suppose it feels weird to call me Nicole, too huh?”
“Is everything alright?” I ask flatly.
“Oh, yes. Everything’s great. Silly me. Of course, you want to know how things are. You’re probably worried sick,” she says.
“Well, yes, mainly because normally the school contacts my mother at home, so I’m inclined to think something has gone wrong.” I’m growing irritated by her attempts to prolong the phone call. I wish she’d just get to the heart of the matter.
“On the contrary, I’m just calling to tell you everything’s fine and the kids are about to be shuttled back home by bus right now.”
“That’s a relief. Can I speak with Nicole now?”
“You’re speaking with me now,” she answers, laughing.
I stay silent.
“I’m just joking,” she says finally. “I’ll get her right now.”
“Thank you.” While I wait for the only Nicole I’m interested in speaking with, I draw the blinds closed. Sophia is rubbing her eyes, but maybe I can help prolong her rest somewhat.
“Hello, who’s this?” asks a bossy voice from the phone.
I chuckle. “You don’t pick up the phone and ask that right away. That’s not how you do it. You should’ve given me a chance to say something first.”
“Oh. It’s you,” she says flatly, like I’m interrupting her during a colossally important meeting.